


Project Yourself

by Agraulis_vanillae



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Coffee Shop Papyrus, F/F, F/M, Gen, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Love Triangles, Other, PTA Sans, Romance, Voice Acting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agraulis_vanillae/pseuds/Agraulis_vanillae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been trying to get into voice acting for the longest time, but things only really start taking off when your roommate finds out about the whole affair, getting HER friends involved. Meanwhile, you keep your sanity by talking to the only person you've told about your prior experience in voice acting. Things get a little more complicated from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trouble Projecting

You locked yourself in your bathroom, with no one home. Nervous, heart pounding if you were going to be honest with yourself, you stared hard into the paper you held. Breathe in, and breathe out. Deeply, filling your chest with fuel and then feeling the slight ache, you let go of it and then try again. “Hahhh...”

That experimental noise from deep in your throat, yet vibrating shallowly with your discomfort, but nonetheless reassuring. Your voice was as you recalled it.

You flipped to a different page, “No, I don't understand...”

You read a few lines and tried to place yourself in the head of the character. This was from your favorite novel, your favorite character, you knew what motivated them and you could place yourself alongside them. Now though, you needed to be them. 

“I don't understand, why..?”

Your voice wasn't ideal, it wasn't quite as deep as you wanted it to be, but your raw nerves added to the hesitation that you sought to bring to life. Your voice wavered.

“Why would you spare me?”

“I can't... no way I can understand this. I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU!”

You shrieked this line. Again, too shallow. You dug deep into your lungs, trying to push the oxygen to inflate your sternum, and get that push you desperately needed.

“I can't...” wavering again you have to push more reach more, more into that spot in your chest for maximizing vocal strength-

“... no way... I can understand this, I CAN'T understand YOU!!!”

You stopped to measure yourself from the audio. You finally projected your voice as loud as you'd like, but without shouting or shrieking. Dropping the photocopied pages from the story you liked, you pulled out a genuine script. Reading the character's lines, and studying the story, you mouthed along, to test and taste how you may settle into this new mind. At a particularly emotional bit of dialogue, you began voicing the parts again.

“Did you really think I was that blind..? I'm not as dumb as I look y'know,” you pondered, should this be said bitterly, or more self deprecating? Make up your mind before you speak, dammit. “Huahahaha. 'Maybe I ought to kill myself?', that's what you expected me to say, wasn't it? I do in fact hate myself, but love, I think I've managed to learn to hate someone much, much more than myself.”

You frowned. This character was by far the most complicated, and thus the best way to prove your ability to voice act, but they were so angry. How would you find yourself out of the emotional rabbit hole if you got into that character's head. Quietly, you stared at the script, reading and allowing yourself to mentally soak in the script.

So of course, you jumped a mile when someone knocked on the door. Slamming into the shower door when you stumbled on your landing, you weren't shocked to find that your roommate literally broke the door to save you from your concussion. Also, you couldn't remember the last couple of hours, but that was fine. It was nice not to remember being embarrassed getting caught with a script from the local anime studio and papers applying to an audition starting at the next comic-con. 

“Hey, I get you like your privacy... but why didn't you say anything?” your roommate gently drilled you. As much of a contradiction the words 'gently drilled' were, that was how best to describe the monster Undyne, whom you secretly suspected might've been a betta fish in her last life. “I think its awesome you want to voice act! Although, I don't think I've ever heard you squeal before?! Was that part of the role?”

“I... might be embarrassed about... well, being embarrassed,” you mumbled. It makes so much more sense in your head, but you just didn't like how transparently you reacted to surprises.

She was supposed to be gone for awhile. Without someone to annoy or judge, the loneliness made it easier for you to accept the flaws in your voice and work through them, anything from being too quiet, to cracking, to fading mid-sentence when you hit the limit of your vocal range.

“Hey, earth to ___!” Undyne waved a full arm in front of your face, “Are you fading out on me again? I'm calling an ambulance if you do.”

“Nope, nope, don't do that! I'm good! I just said I didn't like how I react to being embarrassed. I wish I could just swing with it,” you panicked, and the truth slipped out as easily as that.

Undyne's eyebrow quirked up, “So you're just saying you wish you couldn't be embarrassed, punk?Doesn't everyone? Doesn't mean you get to knock yourself out for it! By the way you didn't answer me!Why are you locking yourself in the bathroom over an audition?”

She tapped on your aching head for good measure and you squeaked indignantly at the assault. “Knock it off! I'm trying to practice for this character.”

You tapped twice on the script, half to show her what you were talking about, but also involuntarily twitching nervously.

“Hang on, lemme get my girlfriend, she'd actually know what this is from?.. hey, this character... seems a little...” Undyne seemed unsure what she wanted to say next. “... its a little mismatched for you isn't?”

She got her girlfriend on the phone, “Hey Alphie, my roomie wants some input on an anime audition-”

“No I don't,” you blatantly contradicted her but she kept steamrolling on and managed to bring her girlfriend onto speaker, a sunny yellow lizard that you met a while ago with a bad stutter.  
You stayed in place, twiddling your thumbs.

“W-well, maybe you should start now? I promise, i-it can't be that bad, especially if you're considering voice acting,” Alphys's voice broadcast from Undyne's phone. “J-just st-t-t-art when y-you're ready?”

You didn't want to do this, put on the spot for almost an hour straight given that Undyne didn't believe in letting you hide from her. After all, she merely wanted to help. It was too bad you weren't ready to perform for an audience, your headache was just barely fading away, and you're very reluctant to speak when you barely had a grip on a character's voice. Nonetheless, you tried,  
“'Huahahaha. 'Maybe I ought to kill myself?', that's what you expected me to say, wasn't it? I do in fact hate myself, but love, I think I've managed to learn to hate someone much, much more than myself.'”

You lost the intensity that you had built up to, and you cringed, stopping short of continuing the character's dialogue.

“I'm not wrong, right Alphys? ____ ,I don't think that role is the right fit for you,” Undyne mused, trying not to hurt your feelings too much.

“Y-yeah...” her phone mumbled. “You sound more unc-c-comfortable than anyth-thing.”

“My head still kinda hurts you two,” you said, “Can we continue this later?”

“Hey Undyne, has she been in someth-th-thing already?”

“I didn't ask?! HEY do you think she's-”

Successfully escaping, but obviously not unscathed, you hid under your bed with your laptop squished under with you. Messaging your friend through Skype, you grumbled about how the day went.

Chimera: When I had a human roommate, I couldn't even get a hi half the time. Now that Undyne's my roommate, I have to work to keep my work a secret!!! I mean, I can't complain 'cuz its not so lonely living in an apartment anymore but HOLY CRAP!!!

Boned4life: sounds SO rough buddy. 

Chimera: ...also are you gonna stop changing your name to awful puns, Sans? Like, I already know you're a skeleton geez lol

TehBoneZone: don't fib-u-lave it.

Chimera: . . .

Chimera: . . . how.

Chimera: . . . how long.

Chimera: . . . how long did you wait. JUST. To spring that? Is that even like legal punning?

SansTheBody: just today. ;)

You sighed, amused and fed up with your skelebro manipulating the conversation into yet another hopeless banter. 

Chimera: how long do you think b4 Alphys finds my 'work'? she's like way weeaboo

PunMaster: honestly? prob not long. she's a page 10 googler y'know


	2. There's No Such Thing as a Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a peaceful day until Undyne came along, and now you're afraid Pat Benetar summons her.

You were working a temporary job, at Asgore's house, a giant goat monster who happened to be Undyne's best friend (or one of them, in any case). The pay was good, honestly a little too high for what you were doing. You suspected you could blame that on the finely tuned network the monsters seemed to have built among themselves, the day that Undyne (or was it Sans?) learned that you were having trouble finding work, was the same day that you were recruited for Asgore's astounding garden.

You were grateful for the distraction however, and honestly the job was a little confusing at first. Asgore was kind but firm, guiding you through the exact care the flowers and vegetables needed for every different strain. At first, you performed grunt work, simply pulling non-existent weeds and fetching different supplies, but then you were upgraded to watering. Then came the other little details that were meant to give the plants the best care and even though you were skeptical about being paid so much for your assistance, you finally understood why Asgore would want to pay his worker well. It seemed that he wanted things done a very particular way, so he was willing to pay a little more to make you care. You were willing to give that kind of care, and the work was pleasant anyway.

In that time, you'd taken to calling both him and his kinda-sorta ex-wife Toriel “Daddy” and “Mama”. It could have been weird, but you stopped feeling awkward about it as soon as you learned that monsters lived longer than humans, and as such your endearments were easily accepted. You seemed to have been adopted and as such, you could reliably count on being fed lunch every day. While working, you both listened to a radio blaring out tunes, and today you got to pick out the station- rock and roll baby!

Now, you were humming a Queen tune that caught in your head as you mixed fertilizer with water, measuring out exact ratios and carefully pouring them on the appropriate spots. After a moment, you found yourself singing a whole different song aloud, synchronizing the words with the radio,

“Well you're a real tough cookie with a long history of breaking little hearts like the one in me~”

It was sunny but still somewhat cool, and all the plants were barely transplanted from starters. It'd been about two week since Asgore hired you, so that was enough time for him to join you in the chorus, a deep rumbling baritone that you could almost feel singing through the open space.

“Hit me with your best shot! C'mon, why don't you hit me with your best shot!”

It was fortunate that you were had just barely finished fertilizing the plants, because the way that Undyne seemed to nearly knock the backyard gate off its hinges had made you jump a mile in the air. You quickly reconsidered singing Pat Benetar ever again as Undyne stalked triumphantly to you.

“Whatever I did to get you smiling like that Undyne, I regret it from the deepest reaches of my soul and please don't force me to train with you. I still have brui-”

“I GOT YOUR NUMBER!!!” she crowed, loudly and excitedly.

“U-uh, y-yes you do?” you turned your head a little, looking at her questioningly. You weren't actually sure what she meant, but you thought it probably didn't have to do with your actual phone number.

“Why didn't you tell me you've done voice acting before?!” Undyne demanded. You tensed up and shot a panicked glance at Asgore who'd checked the condition of the gate before turning to watch the two of you curiously. “You were the little sister character from Kokoro no Carnations! You were Skipper! Alphys actually HAS that indie show.”

Annnd there it was. The only shocker was that Alphys didn't figure it out sooner if it was part of her collection. Sans had made a bet with you a couple of days ago that they'd find your history in about a day. You made a more conservative bet and wagered they'd find out before the week was over, so it looks like he owes you lunch at some point. At this moment though, you were more concerned with damage control.

“Undyne no, not here!” you declared in a low voice. “I will not discuss my voice acting career in front of Goat-Dad.”

“Psh Asgore will be fine!” Undyne dismissed your wild panic. “He's an adult.”

“Undyne, he treats me like an adoptive child, and I act like a kid around him. No parent wants to know everything that their kid does,” you said emphatically.

“Wait, why are you worried?” Undyne scratched the base of her ponytail. She looked at you with some suspicion.

“What do you know about Kokoro no Carnations?” you asked, rubbing your forehead in spite of the fact that you smeared a bunch of garden soil on your face.

“I've never seen it before, Alphys just told me who you played, why?”

You pulled her to the side, safely out of earshot of Asgore. You honestly didn't want him hearing the plot to your only voice over role, especially given the explicit details.

“How to put it... well. Skipper gets molested by her mother before falling into a crowd of overprotective of surrogate “Onee-chan's” that vie for her attention, while her actual older sibling goes and has a normal high school romance. Oh, and she wants “Oni-chan” to notice her, but he never does. It's uh, really weird actually. Wanna know what makes it weirder?”

Undyne looked perplexed, “What?”

My friend that drew out all 5 episodes based the character off a picture of me when I was 10,” you revealed.

“No..! Really?!” Undyne was entranced. “So there are parts of this anime that's actually REAL?!”

You gave her a horrified look, “Oh god no, just the character design. As much as I love my family, I'm not IN love with them thank you very much.”

“Oh. Well, haven't you done anything since?” she wanted to know.

You averted your gaze, staring at the picnic table that had all the fertilizers and measuring supplies. “I haven't done anything as of late, no. I don't like playing vulnerable characters. People tend to project your character onto you, and that doesn't seem to turn out so well for me.”

Undyne patted your shoulder awkwardly, “Uh well, sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have pried.”

Relieved that your not-so-subtle hint was taken, you smiled a little. “I'd appreciate that, thanks.”

She walked out the garden, taking a few minutes to talk to Asgore and you thought it was over until she rushed back in with an epiphany,

“WAIT A SECOND!!! That night we met, is that anime the reason how you learned to fight like that?!” Undyne demanded. 

You froze into place. “UNDYNE what did I tell you about parents and need-to-know basis?”

She turned back around, waving you off even as she glanced over her shoulder, “Yeah yeah, but I need DEETS when you get back home punk! Also, be prepared to rehearse for that role 'cuz we've got a guy!”

“You've got a guy,” you responded, dubiously.

“We've got a guy,” she confirmed. “He's not my favorite person in the world, but hell, he knows his way around showbiz.”

Both of you ignoring Asgore's quizzical but benign gaze, Undyne finally left while you smeared dirt on your phone's touchscreen desperately texting Sans.

-shes got a guy  
-SAVE ME

Rubbing the dirt off to read the reply on your phone screen, you groaned aloud, imagining him chuckling.

-save yourself

Meanwhile, Sans sat at his hotdog stand contemplating the inconvenience of having no nails to file as he waited out the workday. Of course, he did have an image to maintain, and filing nails would probably make him look less lazy. At least he had you to keep him entertained, always scrambling to duck out of your roommate's and his brother's crazy schemes. He contemplated his last text, and finally figured he probably ought to throw you a bone.

-tell you what  
-i'll upgrade lunch to dinner if u survive  
-gotta work now ttyl

He chuckled at your disgruntled response,

-bullshit :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote a whole different alternate chapter that I didn't like at all, so that's how this ended up taking MUCH longer than originally projected to write. This was written rather quickly, so I apologize for the little to no editing involved. I intend for further chapters to be a little better reviewed.


	3. Mettaton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this can go nowhere but 360 degrees with an awkward turn midway.

You left work toting cookies and juice from Toriel, and despite multiple texts, Sans had been firm about not bailing you out. You were on your own to face a stranger that Undyne hired despite even admitting she didn't like him. With your bravest face, and one last diversionary gulp from the juice box, you opened the door to your apartment.

Things were surprisingly calm, and despite your fears of being ambushed the second you walked through the door, you had a chance to dump your stuff in your room before following the voices to your kitchen. Undyne sat in relative peace, sipping from a cup of tea while her girlfriend Alphys and the dubiously welcomed guest talked. The 'guy' that Undyne so proudly talked about getting wasn't exactly human or monster. Instead he looked to be some anime robot prototype, with flashy pink and black armor.

“She's really shy about this s-so don't go overboard with criticism!” Alphys told him.

“Mm, you sure she's up to this? 'Shy' isn't a good quality for showbiz y'know...” he responded. Alphys puffed up her cheeks and blew air at him with exasperation.

“You had no problem taking on Shyren!”

He nodded, totally ignoring her annoyance, “We all know Shyren has talent, darling. Frisk helped her out of her shell, anyhow.”

“B-b-but! Have you even seen Kokoro no Carnation? She voiced one of the characters and inspired the character art! She has experience, a-and real talent!

You waved a little bit, unseen. You stood there for a few seconds, annoyed that they were talking about you right in front of you and they hadn't even noticed you came through the door. You stuck your tongue out and pulled down your lower eyelid, and narrowed your eyes when you weren't even caught making a face. Instead of doing anything more immature, you decided to pad quietly behind the robot standing over him for a full minute when Alphys froze up. Her gaze darted from you to him, and you quirked an eyebrow with expectation as he continued talking.

“Alphys, I know how charmed you can get over your anime characters, but one show is not enough to determine 'talent', let alone whether or not this girl can survive a day in showbiz-” he continued to argue his case.

“Well, I've survived a few months with Undyne,” you interjected, “Catty robots oughta be a cakewalk after that.”

He jumped in place, and swirled around to face you in his chair, admittedly with style. And also really long legs. Who the hell gave this guy great legs, anyways? Geez. Alphys for her part, looked like she just about had a heart attack.

“When did you get there?!” he gaped.

You maintained your self-satisfied smirk, “Its not polite to talk about someone who's listening.”

The only one unfazed, Undyne looked up from the newspaper, having been working on a crossword with only mild success. You could see whole blocks of the crossword that had letters scribbled through and replaced. “About time! I was starting to think you deserted!” She narrowed her eyes. “And you know what happens to deserters, don't you?”

Instantly contrite, you blanched “Please no, no special training. I can only put out so many house fires before the landlord tries to evict us.” You would've banned Undyne from the kitchen, but being shorter meant you had to be a little more fit before you could force her out.

She grinned at you wolfishly as Alphys tried to move things along. “R-right, so its a good thing you came! I thought it'd be a good idea if you had some vocal coaching-”

“Listen darling, I'm here to make you a star!” the robot interrupted. “And the first thing we need to work on is your presence! You have absolutely none!”

You look from the two of them and then to Undyne, eyebrows raised skeptically. “Your guy is a robot. A robot with an artificial... voice box?”

“HEY!” Undyne protested furiously, “Well...” she stopped. “When you put it that way...” her face screwed up in thought. Apparently it sounded like a good idea at the time.

Alphys had a look like she was thinking “Oh my god why did I ever get involved?!”

You nodded, “Yeah, not trying to be negative guys, but I don't think this is gonna work.” Attempting to beat a hasty retreat, you turned only to feel someone grab your forearm. You whipped around to shoot a hostile glare at the annoying robot.

“Hang on darling, I think we've gotten off on the wrong beautiful leg here. Lets try again,” he suggested. You heaved a hopeless sigh. You were pretty sure that wasn't how the phrase went, but you forgot how nice most monsters were at heart. You were torn between apologizing for your attitude and wanting to correct the misuse of the phrase, but you didn't get a chance to follow either impulse as he continued, “You clearly need some polishing, but despite that your voice isn't bad, at least compared to some of the atrocities I've seen Alphys watching. I believe I can help, even without a more organic vocal range-”

“Or the need to breathe?” you interrupted cheekily.

He ignored you with determination and continued, “-as you are sorely in need of someone with my personal experience.”

“In voice acting?” you responded dubiously.

“In showbiz!” he made a sweeping motion before completing the pose. “My word, how will you make it a day without being able to make yourself be seen?” You stared suspiciously, wondering if he'd seen your childish actions from before. Of course, if not, then maybe he just had a really good point. Regardless...

“I don't want to be seen,” you enunciated clearly. “I don't like that kind of attention, that's why I want to be in voice acting.” It was dangerous for you to attract too much attention, you added mentally.

“Nonsense! Being seen is all part of the business,” he was clearly unconvinced. You shook your head wearily.

“I don't want to argue, just let me go so I can stuff my face full of greasy food with my skele-buddy, sing a little karaoke, and hide from the rest of civilization,”

“Don't think I can be dismissed so easily!” he pointed to you dramatically. “You're going to get me for your vocal coach, manager, and personal mentor if my name isn't Mettaton!” Undyne and Alphys simultaneously exchanged looks, one dubious and one delighted respectively. You weren't sure how to react, but the hand that was pointing at you was previously holding your arm before so you were free to go.

“I mean, if you must?” you were somewhat confused, but despite yourself you were starting to feel amused. “I wasn't trying to reverse psychology you into coaching me y'know.”

“Eh?” Mettaton cocked his head, suddenly looking confused.

Actually, the whole room seemed unsure what was going on, including yourself. You tried to explain, “I mean you didn't want to coach me at all, right? So save yourself the trouble.”

He perked up, “OH darling! You misunderstand, I simply must hold my brand up to the strictest standards! What you heard earlier, wasn't rejection, just caution. You and I have a long way to go before I can let you audition as it is.”

You gawked, suddenly alarmed, “What do you mean?!”

“I mean that you and I are going to work together for at least a few months before you can dazzle the world with my brilliance,” he huffed. “What do you mean, what do you mean?”

“That audition is in two weeks though!” You protested.

“Uh-uh! Too soon,” he responded. You growled low in your throat, thoroughly fed up.

“Just try to stop me,” you retorted. “Stop me from going to that audition, and stop me from heading out that door right friggin' now.”

You swiftly grabbed your bag in your room, making a point to wash your hands of any residual fertilizer and garden grime before heading out. Undyne and Alphys stared at each other, unsure to make of the new tension.

“Is that good?” Undyne worried. You were a pretty withdrawn girl after all, and it wasn't exactly normal to see you get worked up so quickly, unless it was to do with kitchen fires. And maybe being broken in on while practicing lines.

“I-I can't t-tell...” Alphys said. Mettaton didn't look too put off. Instead he stood there thinking for a couple of minutes. “M-Mettaton... are you all right over there?”

“She said there was karaoke didn't she?” Mettaton asked, thoughtfully.

“W-well... I think there was something about that?” Alphys glanced at Undyne for confirmation. Mettaton snapped his fingers, the sound metallic.

“I think we'll have our first lesson tonight,” he grinned wolfishly. “Undyne darling, where would my apprentice be talking about?”

“Grillby's obviously,” Undyne snorted. “She's going to hang out with Papyrus's brother. But hey, don't drive her TOO crazy!” she eyed Mettaton uncertainly. “She's been pretty cool about rooming with me and I don't want to see her leave!”

Mettaton waved a hand dismissively, “I promise no such thing. You want me to make her a star? Well, she's going to have to go through trial by glamour first!” He walked out the door.

Meanwhile, you were pushing your way through the door at Grillby's, scanning the establishment for Sans. As you'd suspected, the skeleton was lounging around the bar, cracking jokes with the bartender. Smiling cheekily, you joined them, cracking a bad pick up line you thought of yourself.

“Hey Grillby, I'd been wanting to know something. Would you get hotter if I blew you?” 

Grillby threw up his hands with an annoyed flush and walked away. For a second you thought you might've gone too far until he turned back and whapped you and Sans briskly with a spoon.

“Ah!” you squeaked, laughing your ass off despite the small pain across the hairline where you got smacked. Both of you were giggling like school children. “C'mon, you know someone had to ask eventually!”

“i think i already used that one a while ago, but good on ya for branching out,” Sans told you in his own way of congratulations. You started out being pretty terrible at one liners, jokes, and puns but you were slowly working your way to driving Papyrus as crazy as Sans. 

“... so what will it be tonight?” Grillby asked. His voice was low and smoky, yet somehow smooth and unbroken. You and Sans had agreed more than once that you'd be able to have sex with his voice alone.

“well? how'd 'training' go?” Sans asked, as if your answer determined your meal.

“They roped in some weird diva robot who didn't want to help until he did, and now he's trying to keep me from going to the audition in a couple of weeks,” you sighed. “So now that's a thing.”

“ah,” Sans replied knowingly. “mettaton.”

“Burger for me, Grillby,” you ordered. 

“same,”

“Honestly, I was hoping you were joking about the greasy food,” a very familiar rang out. “We've got a lot of work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Grillby, you don't have anything that passes for a bouncer do you?"  
> "... not after that terrible pick up line."  
> This is going to be one of those "Reader can't catch a break" things. I feel it in my bones.


	4. Pop Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton commandeers your MP3 at a time where you really just wanted a burg.

You groaned aloud and smacked your head into the bar with a force to make Sans wince.

“easy there buddy. i'm not licensed to treat skull-tures, heh.” he joked easily. 

“You are the worst kind of unsympathetic,” you grumbled under your breath to Sans before Mettaton strolled up and sat down on the bar chair next to you.

The monster with the duck bill looked at Mettaton nervously before turning back to talk to the monster with the large lips. The dogs also seemed unsure of what to make of the new guest, but they resumed their activities quickly enough.

“So what's on the menu tonight? And I'm not referring to the food, beauties,” Mettaton leaned on a slender robotic hand, the framework underneath visibly shifting in between joints to accommodate the gesture. You stared at him blankly, before he motioned over to where the jukebox sat.

“OH,” you laughed. “That thing's been busted for ages. I just set up my music charging station in the plug over there and activate the speakers. I get all of my instrumental versions online.”

Mettaton frowned. “So you sing karaoke in a bar that has no karaoke.”

“You can always leave,” you gestured with your palms flipped up in a near shrug. “This isn't a fancy setup. I just come here to do my thing.”

He sighed, “Hand it over then.”

“I'm not handing my music library to you,” you eyed him wearily, hands over your bag protectively.

Grillby came back with the burgers, face unreadable. Sans winked at him and upended a bottle of ketchup instead. You rolled your eyes, and dug into your burger with abandon. 

Mettaton looked at both of you with disgust, “Use a napkin once in awhile, geez.”

“Nah-”

You and Sans both said it through muffled mouths, and then snickered at each other, and Grillby's flames crackled contentedly. To spite Mettaton, you took another giant bite of the burger, in a way that you could almost feel your jaw snap out of place. Whoops, gotta watch for that TMJ. After chewing through the bite, with juice running down your face, you rubbed the junction at your jaw where you could hear the crackling before Mettaton lost patience.

He seized some paper napkins and grabbed your face to hold you still. You yelped in sudden pain and lunged backwards, accidentally knocking into Sans and crumbling you both to the floor. “Ow...” you groaned. Mettaton looked temporarily stunned at your reaction.

“Oh darling, are you okay?!” he jumped up to check on you both. Your legs were caught awkwardly across Sans' barstool, and twisted you so that your hips were pressed painfully into Sans' ribcage and the side of your boobs were smushed up against his perpetual grin.

“i'll admit you're bountiful, but tibia honest i really just came here to ketchup,” Sans managed to say with your chest pressed against his face. Now you could let this get awkward, or...

“But aren't ya having the breast time?” you rebutted, rolling off and untangling but also crossing you arms and resting your chin on your fist in a prone position. How suave of you.

Sans chuckled a little, and then it evolved into a full belly laugh. You laughed with him, but inside you were shocked that you got him laughing so hard over such a bad pun. Feeling a little silly for smiling so hard, you managed to brush yourself off and offer a hand up to Sans.

“hey, what did the ghost say to the hornet?” Sans asked, the corners of his eyes turned up with mirth. “boo bees.”

You clapped as Mettaton groaned, “All right I got one! What did the bra say to the hat?”

“huh?”

“You go on a head, I'll give these two a lift!” you finished triumphantly. Mettaton looked rather annoyed at this turn of events, but he spotted your bag lying on the floor where it got knocked over and begun shuffling through it until he pulled out the charging station and your music player.

“what did one boob say to the other?” Sans said and you shook your head smiling, as you'd already heard this one.

“You're my breast friend!”

“Okay okay! Your humor is awful darlings,” Mettaton interrupted. “I think it's time we moved on to real training and not low brow humor!” 

You saw that he'd somehow got a hold of your bag and paled, “Oh for the love of- I haven't even finished eating yet!”

“No excuses! As your manager I expect you to practice every day! And clean your face up!” he pushed the napkins into your hands forcing you to begrudgingly wipe away the grease.

“Not gonna,” you told him, forcing a carefully blank stare on your face. Near you, Sans could sense your tension.

“buddy, that's not how you're gonna get this one to do anything,” Sans chuckled, warning him with no expectation of his warning to be taken seriously.

“Yeah, (yeah)!” Dogamy and Dogaressa butts in. “You gotta say please (with puppy wags on top!). Please pet us, ____?”

“Awwwooo...” you cooed, unable to resist and you bounced over to pet them, only to be overwhelmed with the rest of the dog pack. Blissfully lost in the eternal dog petting loop and making the occasional hum of pleasure, you're tuned out to Mettaton's look of exasperation and Sans shrugging.

“that's a special exception. Unless alphys has a dog-bot body, you're probably not getting anywhere,”

Mettaton crosses his arms and pulls himself to full height, which admittedly is pretty impressive, “LOOK if you're not going to perform, then I will!”

Sans says sarcastically, “how surprising,” as Mettaton begins setting up the stolen music system, and sets it on 'shuffle'.

~ “I hate the world today... you're so good to me, I know, but I can't change...” ~

Sans laughs as you shoot up, instantly coloring. “heh, I thought you only had rock and punk on your mp3, ____.”

“Shuddup, “ you grumbled, sinking back on top of your barstool. The ex-Royal Guard dogs reluctantly return to their tables, the petting temporarily over. Mettaton's annoyed expression easily melts away as he gets into the song, 

~ “I'm a bitch, I'm a lover. I'm a child, I'm a mother.” ~

and he poses along with each declaration of what kind of person he was. Eventually the song ends and you begin relaxing as well, seeing him continue performing and keeping the heat off you. Despite yourself, you sway in place and hum to the songs. You turned to continue munching on fries and eventually order a drink, seeing as Grillby doesn't serve water. Or even touch water for that matter. Sipping on the drink, the short period of peace ended unexpectedly when mid-song when Mettaton seized your elbow and forces you to switch places. 

You blink unexpectedly, still holding your drink and standing next to the jukebox. Mettaton is now sitting next to Sans, smirking in your place while Sans looks as unsettled as you. Mettaton waves his hand in a gesture egging you on.

~ “I said, you look so fine and I really wanna make you mine?” ~

You intoned reluctantly, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed, the epitome of 'deer caught in headlights'. Mettaton shakes his hands impatiently, “More! Confidence!”

~ “Big black boots. Long brown hair. She's so sweet with her, GET BACK STARE!” ~

You glare at Mettaton to emphasize the last line, but the rest of the bar starts encouraging loudly, mainly from the dog pack. At this point, you just had to own it, and as Sans had mentioned you had a soft spot for dogs.

~ “Now I wanna see you home with me, but you were with another maaan yeah!” ~

You cheered with them, focusing on your audience more than your stalking 'manager'. This allowed you to get through the song, which you expected to stop right after. However he continued cycling through songs on your mp3, and with no one willing to trade places, you were forced to encore.

It was only after nearly cracking your voice on the absolute high note of Bohemian Rhapsody that you realized he was testing your vocal range. Your drink had long emptied and you were at the point where you were rubbing at your throat worriedly.

“all right, I think I got this one,” Sans steps in, briefly tapping your shoulder to let you know his chair was open. Mettaton frowns severely but Sans continues smiling pleasantly as he stands in the middle of that non-stage in front of the jukebox and you gratefully retreat to Sans chair. Mettaton fiddles with your device, trying to find... what? You weren't sure, until-

~ “Once I had a love, and it was a gas. Soon turned out, I had a heart of glass.” ~

You gave Mettaton a look of disbelief. There was no way he could match that pitch! However, Sans took it into stride with an enviable grace. Instead of even trying, he adopted the next few lyrics into an alto, still somewhat high pitched for his range. You flagged down Grillby for another drink real quick to clear your throat, and then projected into the next set of lyrics.

Sans tapped his foot in rhythm with the song, and despite your intervening to let him off the hook, he began singing again with the chorus. 

You beamed as you both finally synced up correctly, “It's just no good, you teasing like you do.”

Despite the perma-grin, you could see the corners of his eyes push up as he really smiles in response. You couldn't help feeling a stab of admiration, as you reflect the way he could stand up comfortably on-stage even with an impromptu performance that was geared to seeing him fail. Another ridiculous song began playing courtesy of Mettaton, and he continued singing along with half the bar.

Not for the first time, you wanted to be him. It was easy enough to fall back on being a stubborn ass and digging your heels when put on the spot, but to really own the moment like Sans is and always has... well, it was amazing. 

Unconsciously, your expression falls, and you stare into your drink, still humming. It wasn't hard for your friend to notice the change even onstage and eventually he manages to break away from the pop song hell that Mettaton had looped him into,

“heh, i'm done torturing the bar with this noise you guys call singing. its getting about time for me to take off anyways,” he says, as the bar laughs or makes noises of disappointment. “what, you guys actually enjoyed that? weirdos.”

Breaking out of a self-deprecating train of thought, you quickly give him a look that screams “Don't leave me with this guy”. 

Sans winks at you and pats your shoulder gently, “can't have my bro getting bonely, right?”

You huff, unable to give much more protest with Mettaton holding your music captive,“Later Sans.”

Fortunately, just as Sans leaves, Grillby taps the bar near Mettaton's seat impatiently. Turning to look questioningly at the bartender, Mettaton recognizes the stern look through the glasses.

“Well, I suppose you did all right for tonight. Darling, we'll resume training soon,” he concedes reluctantly, sliding your music player and station across the bar to you. Recognizing your opportunity to leave, you seize your belongings, and then dash out. Blinking in your wake, Mettaton remains in place, lost in thought.

“That girl's going to give me a real workout, isn't she?”

The duck billed monster nearby exchanges a look with Grillby and snorts in amusement, but says no more about it. 

Returning back to an empty apartment, you jump back onto your computer to check on news and relax. You find that Sans sent you a link to “Get Up” by Superchick, and groan externally while smiling to yourself internally. You'd previously regretted telling him about your love for the Ice Princess movie considering the EXTREME amount of teasing and ice related puns he had in his arsenal, but this was actually kind of sweet. 

Chimera: thanks.

Chimera: but srsly, don't evr abandon me to a rabid robot again.

You lost track of how many times you'd looped the song while reading a book. You were half asleep and loopy from fantasy-land when a familiar ping sounded through the chorus.

PunMaster: no promises.

…

He's such a dick sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS ALIIIVE!!! Sorry about it LITERALLY being months, but I'm not gonna let this go! Hopefully, the slightly longer length pleases my dear readers *a dorky bow*.  
> Also, for those of you who are uncertain what TMJ is, it stands for temporomandibular jaw disorder. More of minor nuisance than a real problem, but essentially your jaw occasionally gets stuck in a certain position if you open your mouth too wide, or it'll hurt, or occasionally you'll hear this weird 'crackling' noise when you move it. Now you know, but knowing doesn't actually help with any battles or anything so... sorry about that? Have fun with the random factoid inhabiting your brain!


	5. Taming Of the Shrew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You recall how you met the Skelebros.

You hadn't pegged this day to be one of those days where Papyrus was visiting- if you had, you would've fire-proofed the kitchen. Asbestos was starting to sound like the lesser of two evils, honestly. Nonetheless, Sans's brother was so nice it was difficult to put your foot down on the mass destruction. Frankly, it was also impossible to curse normally, much like playing with your little cousin you resorted to 'safe' substitutes around Papyrus. So of course, Mettaton had to show up for vocal coaching today. 

So not only can you not curse normally, but you can't help but NEED to curse at Mettaton for being every bit as frustrating to work with as you'd previously feared. To put it as crudely as possible, you didn't know whether to shit or eat breakfast.

Since pointing out that he was relying on a mechanical voice box for his vocal range, he'd been pulling up a lengthy number of vocal exercises. In fact, you weren't sure you'd be able to work on all of the vocal exercises even if he spent a couple of days for each week watching over.

“Why a straw..?” You ask, dubiously. This was the tool handed to you for the day's vocal exercises.

“We'll be practicing on maintaining your vocal chord's health, darling,” Mettaton explains. “It's nice and all to work on posture and strengthening your diaphragm, but the quality of your voice is still rather erratic.”

You stuck out a tongue, disgruntled, and then chewed on the straw instead. Unamused, Mettaton slowly pulls out a 1000 count mega pack of the multi-colored straws.

No one is happy with this.

About 20 and some odd straws and both of you getting on the other's nerves, Papyrus and Undyne made the mistake of peeking inside your room. The tension could be cut with Undyne's spear, and you both were locked into a long glare with you sitting Indian-style on your bed and Mettaton cross legged on the beanie bag chair.

“W-WOWIE, THEY'RE STARING SO INTENSELY... ”

“Pft it's fine, they get like this every week, it's like foreplay for those two.”

You both choke, much to your annoyance you do so a split second before he does, and you turned to screech indignantly, “Aren't you supposed to be burning down the kitchen right now?!”

“... DIDN'T YOU FORBID THAT?” Papyrus said with his face screwed up in confusion, reminding you how literal he could be sometimes. Before he could answer, Mettaton claimed your attention again.

“Listen, we wouldn't have problems like this if you'd just cooperate! What's it going to take for you to just humor me?” he says, exasperated. “If its another accident with your breasts in Sans's face, I'm sure that could be arranged.”

“OH MY G-” you snapped your mouth closed before you could say “God” in front of Papyrus, before continuing, “-GOSH! THAT WAS A ONE TIME THING!”

“Wait, what?” Undyne said with gleeful amusement.

“YEAH WHAT?” Papyrus said, instantly interested. “I DIDN'T KNOW YOU AND MY BROTHER GOT TO SECOND BASE! WHEN DID YOU GO ON A DATE?”

“What?” you said, gulping in anticipation of the sudden hijinks. “No dates! Its platonic!”

“Platonic... boob groping?” Undyne snickered.

“For fu-fri-, FOR FUZZ'S SAKE!” you growled, every bit as annoyed at your inability to cuss normally as you were annoyed at the situation, “No! I basically fell on top of him. Also, no hands were involved, you hentai!”

“WELL, AS LAZY AS MY BROTHER IS, YOU SEEM TO ENJOY HIS COMPANY. HOW DO YOU KNOW IF IT'S PLATONIC?” Papyrus asks. You can already anticipate the awkward 'date' with Papyrus essentially babysitting you and Sans as the television plays some awful MTT programming.

“C'mon bro,” you say pleadingly, saying 'bro' much the way someone would call someone else's mom 'ma'. “Not all accidents have to be part of a greater romantic comedy.”

Mettaton meanwhile had been thinking hard while you were diverted, and finally declares, “I've got it! If you would just cooperate, ____ perhaps I could arrange for you to be a backup singer for the occasional program. It's good exposure, darling.”

“Wait, you're serious?” Undyne responds for you, “You're not just going to turn her into a shrub like Burgerpants are you?”

“Very serious,” he nods. “There's no way I'd give any apprentice of mine a part so forgettable.”

“WOWIE METTATON! THAT'S AMAZING!” Papyrus enthusiastically claps his hands together. “I'LL GET TO KNOW TWO TV STARS!”

“No,”

Cringing to yourself, you did your best to ignore the near-identical flabbergasted expressions. He wasn't supposed to be pulling strings for you, all you wanted was to be left to your own devices even if it was to slowly navigate the world of voice acting with bit parts and independent roles. You put a straw to your lips, and slowly relaxed your mouth to do a little trill through it. Unable to endure the uncomfortable silence anymore, you sigh and say,

“I'll do the dumb exercises. I don't want that part though, it's- mweep~!”

Papyrus seizes your arm as you nearly bite your tongue through the straw, “WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK!” He pulls you off to the side, trying to be covert. “GOOD HUMAN FRIEND, I KNOW YOU'RE HAVING TROUBLE GETTING ALONG WITH METTATON'S SEXINESS-”

“Please don't say that again, Pappy,” you plead. You still adamantly deny to yourself that he has great legs and would prefer to keep it that way.

“-BUT EVEN SANS RECOGNIZES THIS IS A GOOD OPPORTUNITY FOR YOU!”

That much was probably true, he'd been steadfastly ignoring your texts when it was about skipping practice. So you say, “Lets go to the park across the way. We'll be back again for the rest of my training and your uh... cooking lesson.”

Because talking next to the door isn't subtle, which you already knew, you heard identical huffs of exasperation. However, Mettaton was clearly as much due for a break as you were, because he only said “Five minutes, and then two hours of fabulous practice!”

So this was how you ended up sitting on a swing next to your best friend's younger brother, “Sorry, but this is a matter of principle. Right now, we've got sort of a 'Taming of the Shrew' situation going.”

“ARE YOU SAYING THAT THERE'S ROMANTIC TENSION BETWEEN YOU TWO?” Papyrus asks. You shake your head, both in denial of what he said and partially surprised that he knows the reference. Even years after being freed from under Mt. Ebott, most monsters had a fragmented 'human' education at best. 

“No, think more among the lines of the taming someone wild part- Mettaton starts out not wanting anything to do with me until he finds out I don't want to do anything either. He takes it personally, and resolves to train me even at the cost of compromising my identity. Take last week when he wanted me to practice posing with him, there's no need for me to be strutting around like I'm on a catwalk.” you tell him. “He wants me to succeed for bragging rights.”

You blew a raspberry and then swung lazily, “Besides, it just doesn't feel right. If I actually get a headstart because Mettaton intervened on my behalf, I'll never know if I ever did anything on my own merit...”

You knew you sounded insecure even as the words came out of your mouth, and for a quick moment you had to swipe covertly across your face to wipe any visible upset expression before you looked up at him. Much to your shock, you were instantly crushed into a giant bear hug, swing handles and all.

“IN THAT CASE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL SUPPORT YOUR DECISION! EVEN AS COOL AS I AM...” even with his face close, you could almost have trouble hearing what he mumbled next, “I SOMETIMES WORRY ABOUT GETTING THE RECOGNITION THAT I SO CLEARLY DESERVE.”

“Lil' bro...” you move to hug him from your elbows, your shoulders pinned tightly to your sides. The way he said that reminded you vaguely of the first time you met the skelebros. You'd been arguing with a teacher over your relationship qualifying you to be picking up your little cousin when she heard the some PTA parent griping over the monsters picking up the middle-schooler ambassador and pointed them out. You could see the look of dismay flash across his face, the young ambassador grabbing his hand to attract his attention away from the hushed murmurs.

“I know, they're being buttfaces,” you murmured. “You like that guy?”

“Yeah he looks like a superhero!” your cousin, Cora, declared but pursing their lips in an exaggerated tiny version of your Uncle's upset expression. “Timmy's mom has been talking like that all week.”

In a stroke of mad genius, read also: idiot madness, you'd told her to go say hi to the skeleton and then walked up to the parents and said,

“What's going on here?”

“It's none of your business,” a woman said flippantly, and attempted to turn around but you lightly placed your hand on her shoulder to disguise a tight pinch across the muscle. “It's not right that they're all-OW!” She whirled angrily, but seeing you smile widely in such a way that it didn't touch your eyes, she stepped back.

“It is very much my business. See, you,” You pointed at her, then repeated the gesture in an exaggerated arc to each of the offending parents, “And you, and you, and especially you- are spewing racist bull around my baby cousin.” You emphasized 'bull' with the intensity of a cuss. “So now, you have to apologize to those people.”

“I don't,” the woman said automatically, inflecting in such a way that she sounded simultaneously outraged and uncertain. 

“Bobbi, she's a kid, just-” the sole man in the huddle tried to intervene, but the interjection was all you needed to step into her space with your unnatural smile.

“Oh, but you do,” You leaned in with a stage whisper that all the parents would be able to hear. “See, just because you're over-privileged trash doesn't mean you get to infect the rest of the world with your awfulness. So you're gonna go out there, and you are going to apologize. In return, I don't show up for every PTA meeting from now until the goddamn apocalypse because you can't be trusted to be a big girl and behave professionally around children.”

For a few heartbeats, it looked like you were about to get slapped, but she turned pale and lost steam before a low sonorous voice from behind you said, “bobbi, you're not the type to a-salt your casserole, i don't see why you should start now with school visitors.”

You turned to get your first look of the short comedic skeleton that'd eventually become your best friend. Unlike your bristling aggression, his posture was relaxed and he held an easy grin. In stark contrast to your calculated show of intimidation, his mere presence seemed to set off the parents.

“I hate to say it, but the monster's right,” another parent brushed against “Bobbi's” shoulder and moved to leave. “Disengage honey, let's go.”

As they turned to leave, you yell, “Hey!”

They looked at you with various expressions of annoyance and unease. You hiked an eyebrow up with a sneer, “See you next PTA meeting.”

“seeing as you'll be around, i'm sans. sans the skeleton,” Sans had introduced himself, and pointed to your animatedly babbling cousin, as the older kid nodded attentively and the “Superhero skeleton” watched you both with curiosity. “that your sister?”

“Well, cousin. I kinda help out when I have time, and on hot days when my aunt and uncle don't want to cover their tats,” you snorted. Sans nodded.

“i think i know the ones. nice people, but a bit conspicuous tibia honest,”

“Yeah, it's a running theme with our family. Hey, I'd like to stick around but we should probably vamos, possibly before someone calls the police on me,” you admitted, your brain catching up with what you'd just done. “And definitely before Cora's parents catch me being a jerk to the parents.”

His grin widened further, “i doubt they'd be able to press charges. what grade are you in, high school?”

You gave him a flat look. “College graduate.” He made a 'huh' sound in mild surprise, but then your cousin ran up to distract you both to show off clumsily executed sign language. Despite being a few years older, the ambassador showed an unusual patience with your cousin. Ever since, you'd been dutifully attending meetings to annoy parents and teachers alike, eventually earning Sans's phone number and finding yourself in the situation you were in now. 

Even if you hadn't seen Papyrus's expression that day, you knew from Sans that he was still somewhat insecure. “... you worry about silly things. The only people who don't know anything about your greatness are those dumb people from Frisk's school, you have to know that right?”

“Y-YES, OF COURSE I KNOW THAT!” Papyrus stumbled. “AND HEY! I FORGOT I WANTED TO TELL YOU I GOT A JOB AT THE COFFEE SHOP THIS WEEK!”

“Hey, that's...” you thought about all the times he and Undyne nearly destroyed the kitchen and immediately shoved your reservations in a corner. “...awesome bro! Is that why you came over today?” you punched his arm lightly. 

“YEAH!.. SANS DIDN'T TELL YOU YET, RIGHT?” he asked suspiciously. You shook your head.

“Nope! He's been steadfastly ignoring all my calls for help with the Mettaton situation and deflecting all serious conversation with puns,” you pout childishly. “Bonehead.”

“ACTUALLY, I THINK HE'S BEEN BUSY WITH SOMETHING LATELY... BUT I'D BEEN BUSY TOO! SO I DON'T KNOW WHAT,” Papyrus mused. “DON'T WORRY THOUGH! AFTER WE'RE DONE WITH PRACTICE YOU CAN COME VISIT HIM AND I'LL MAKE SPAGHETTI FOR DINNER TONIGHT!”

“____!!! Times up! Get over here and finish practice right now darling, or else I will activate human hunting mode!” Mettaton shouts from across the street and you cringe behind Papyrus.

“Why does Mettaton have a human hunting program?” you ask Papyrus fearfully. He sweats a little, and responds,

“... IT'S A LONG STORY.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hey Sans? Is that a dog caught in your trash tornado?"
> 
> "huh. guess so. looks like papy's finally found a way to keep it out of his bone collection."
> 
> "Y-you mean his body?"
> 
> "nah, bone collection. he hasn't shown it to you yet?"
> 
> *You wonder where all the extra bones came from. You decide not to ask.


	6. PTA meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PTA parents have no chill. Ever. And Mettaton accidentally snoops.

You were rushing down the hallways of the empty school, steps echoing as you tried to keep your bag from falling off your shoulder from its weight. You could hear the PTA meeting, already started before you jogged in. One of the parents were rambling some pseudoscience about autism, and you found Sans hanging out in one of the back desks of the classroom. You already knew Toriel was too busy to come today, and found yourself sweating in anticipation of the upcoming PTA battle. The door closed behind you with an unhelpful slam, making stealth impossible as the attendees of the meeting glanced back at you with various looks of annoyance and distaste.

You sat down, but not before adding to the dialogue snarkily, “Susan, if I hear you say the words 'vaccines', 'cause', and 'autism' in that order again, I swear to god you're going to secure your place in hell alongside the British guy that falsified data in the autism study, Baron Harkonnen, Hitler, Jared from Subway, and Charlie Sheen. Anyone I miss?”

“Pol Pot?” one of the fathers supplied.

“Albert Fish?” another mother added.

Obviously, these comments were from parents that wanted to keep vaccinations mandatory. If there was one thing you learned going to these meetings, it was that most parents here were frenemies and were prone to make or break an alliance at a moment's notice. You long gave up on actually making friends with anyone besides Sans and Toriel here. Still, you'd take your support where you could get it. Susan gawked soundlessly, before her husband stepped in and helped her sit down with a cup of coffee. That probably wasn't going to end well, but hopefully the meeting will end before the caffeine hits her system.

Sans muttered sarcastically to you, “subtle entrance,” before standing up and taking charge. “let's move onto what we're really here for, what's this proposal to remove fire strikers and bunsen burners from the labs?”

Becky Urbanek who was the science teacher present, said “It was proposed that we remove some experiments from the curriculum for some of the older students, which would nullify the need for those tools, yes. This way it removes fire hazards and the possibility of someone getting hurt.”

“I can't see why not, my kid's visited other schools during volleyball games, and the parents from there said that there's no fire implements there,” one parent piped up. You groaned to yourself.

“Yeah, that makes us the school that actually does interesting things. We don't want to go overprotecting the kids, right now we really need to feed their interest in science like that,” you argued, a million objections racing through your head. “And what about demonstrative learners? Some of the kids might struggle with the material if we ignore methods that they learn best from. Besides, there's no reward in learning exercises if you don't get to do them for real.”

“Excuse me, but they already have a reward system in place,” the history teacher pointed out. “They get stickers for answering questions and being well behaved.”

Sans gave you a look that clearly said 'you see what I have to deal with?' and then stood up with a sigh, “hate to stick it to ya buddy, but that's about as interesting as watching paint dry. i'm not expectin' my kid to stay awake in a class i'd sleep through.”

“All right, any better suggestions?” the principal tried to mediate, already nervously fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt in anticipation of the fight that was bound to break out. 

“Why not have Becky demonstrate the experiment for the kids and have them fill out the lab assignment based on the demonst-” you were trying to participate in the debate when the door swung open violently.

Mettaton screeched your name angrily as the equally annoyed PTA members looked at you. You pinched the bridge of your nose with a sigh. What now? “What ON EARTH could possibly be so important that you stood me up today?”

“Didn't you get the message?” you responded, leveling a dark glare in his direction. No seriously, you really did leave a message on his phone. There was no reason why he should be tracking you down into a goddamn school PTA meeting.

“Message???” Mettaton started accessing the texts on his memory disk, before stopping with a puzzled look on his face. “Why is there nothing on my- oh right. Sorry gorgeous, Alphys did a reboot on my system yesterday, the message must have been lost while I was down.”

Taken aback by the apology, you found yourself inadvertently stuttering, “Apology a-accepted?”

He frowned at you, “Stuttering won't do at all! What have I been teaching you?”

“Mostly dubious voice exercises you found off the internet, complete with that one exercise with alliteration of the 's' sound from Stephen King's It.” You responded with an eye roll, then successfully recalled- “'He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts.' See, I do listen sometimes. I just choose not to follow.”

“If you're through interrupting the meeting-” a parent coughed sending you in a startled panic. You promised Toriel that you or Sans wouldn't get kicked out while she was gone!

“SORRY!” You yelped, and with more force than you'd normally use you dragged Mettaton into the seat next to you, sandwiching you between the two. Luckily, the meeting passed with Mettaton being thankfully quiet, although the lapse of his characteristic attention hogging was a little disconcerting.

Once your hard fought battles over science was won or put on hold after running out of time, you asked Mettaton, “Okay, so clearly you think this next thing is important enough that you followed me to my cousin's school and sat in on a PTA meeting. So what's up?”

“Your objections to performing in front of an audience reminded me of someone else, so I wanted you to meet them,” Mettaton explained. “Blooky tends to be a little quiet, and tries not to bother anyone. However, they've branched out with their music and achieved some popularity, so I feel like they could help you as well.”

“your cousin, right?” Sans mentioned. “spookwave's pretty addictive to listen to.”

Now you were just floored. After weeks of bickering with him over your training, and refusing to follow along with the acting exercises, was he actually trying to see things from your perspective? It was oddly thoughtful... for Mettaton anyway. But you had to remain firm, “Are you still trying to give me idol training?”

Impatiently, he responds, “Obviously, darling!”

You shook your head, “Same rules apply, huh?” You picked up your pace to walk ahead of them, Sans falling behind be default since he couldn't be bothered to hurry.

“WAIT! I'm trying to meet you halfway,” Mettaton only sped up with minimal effort, his steps meeting yours soon enough. Dammit again with his legs!!!

One of the parents caught up with you, their child happening to be a friend of your cousin which you supposed why they felt safe asking “You didn't mention having a uh. Boyfriend. What's your name?”

“W-WHAT?! We're not t-together!” you screeched, flustered. “H-hell no!”

“Language! Learn to use it without a stutter!” Mettaton was thoroughly offended. “And you! How is it that you don't recognize me, darling?”

“Oh, sorry, I just heard the pet name and assumed- oh. I'm so sorry!” the parent looked embarrassed. “Do you use those names with everyone?”

“Always, gorgeous. The name's Mettaton, I run a program at-” Mettaton kept going, shamelessly plugging for his show while you turned to get going. Sans shrugged.

“paps is working at the cafe today, if you wanna visit?” he told you. Your expression softened.

“Sure, that sounds like a breath of fresh air after that motley crew. Speaking of...” you pulled out your music player. “Motley Crüe?”

“graduating to music puns are we?” Sans grinned. “watch out, you're looking for nothing but treble if you keep that up.”

“Are you saying my band pun fell a little flat?” You gave him a fake pout. “I thought it was looking pretty sharp myself.”

“oh give that pout a rest,” Sans smirked. “acting ain't your forte.”

“OH MY GOD!,” Mettaton shouted. “I turn around and you're DISCOURAGING my pupil?”

Mettaton apparently caught up at exactly the wrong time, confusing Sans just as you realized what he meant. You slapped a hand over your mouth to repress a laugh as Sans stopped in his tracks to figure out what just happened.

“Is this the reason why you've been avoiding acting lessons?” Mettaton grabbed your shoulders earnestly. “Because you ABSOLUTELY can act, if you just give it a shot!”

Oh nooo, you can't breathe! You felt like your head was about to explode as you tried your hardest not to guffaw at the situation. Sans finally put the pieces together and started snickering as well. Unfortunately, your verbal incapacitation meant that he turned on Sans next.

“How DARE you tell someone struggling with stage fright that they can't act! What's wrong with you?” Mettaton towered above Sans in his boots, but managing to get his face right up to his. Sans wasn't chuckling anymore, but began to look... annoyed? That was a first for you to see his expression twitch into anything than an easygoing grin.

“hey, you misunderstand. it was a joke. it's not like i've been letting her get out of your lessons,” Sans grumbled. “relax.”

“What?” Mettaton suddenly looked lost, looking between you and him. “Letting her get out of lessons?”

“NOT letting me get out of lessons.” You corrected. “Sans has nothing to do with it.”

Mettaton rubbed his temples as if he could get a headache. You briefly wondered if Alphys would be inconsiderate enough to install pain-related circuits or something before he sighed heavily. “Okay, look darling, I've been chasing my tail just to figure you out. Just tell me- why are you so opposed to my lessons.”

“Isn't it obvious by now? I don't like feeling like a pet project.” you said directly.

“No, there's more to it than that.” Mettaton responded firmly. You could feel your hand twitch closed involuntarily before forcing yourself to remain relax. “You wouldn't work with me at all if that's the reason. But no, gorgeous, you just don't want to get on a stage. In front of people. Isn't that right?”

“Mettaton, I genuinely dislike feeling used. That's the truth,” you managed to get out, albeit a bit flatly. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Fine.” Mettaton growled. “But will you at least visit with Blooky? I'd hate to ask him over just to be stood up. It's awful for his self-esteem.”

Shit. You previously intended to visit Papyrus at his new job, but you ran the risk of hurting someone's feelings. Another factor to consider was your tight finances, which meant you couldn't afford to actually purchase anything once there either. You looked between the two, torn. Sensing your indecision, Sans gently reminded you,

“papyrus'll understand. he's excited for your big debut, y'know.”

You spared another longing look to Sans before sighing, “Fine. Okay. Let's go see Blooky. However, I want you to leave me alone next week!” 

Mettaton was visibly relieved, and let you know with a whole-hearted, “Thank you” with no put on endearment. You gave another glance in Sans's direction before seeing that he'd already used his shortcut. No turning back now.

The drive to your apartment was awkward, both of you quiet. It seemed you were both exhausted from the events earlier, and Mettaton was quick to leave you alone with the little ghost who looked they wanted to disappear at any given moment.

“S-sorry......” Blooky said softly. You gave them an uncertain half smile. “I didn't mean to interrupt your day.....”

“No, I should apologize. I should have made damn sure that Mettaton got my message.” You sighed heavily, and rubbed your eyes. “You're okay.”

“... you look tired... I'll get out of your hair......” They started disappearing and you yelped-

“No!!” They startled into turning nearly invisible and you squeaked “Nooooooo Blooky come back!”

A few moments passed.

“... Oh. Oh... okay...” they reappeared hesitantly. You heaved yet another sigh, this time in relief.

“I didn't mean for you to feel unwelcome, I've just been dealing with PTA all day.” You explained. “Those parents seriously have no chill.”

Blooky hovered there for a long time in silence, and finally managed to mumble, “Would you like to lay on the floor.... and feel like trash with me?.....”

You regarded the idea thoughtfully. “That kinda sounds relaxing.”

Before you knew it, you were both lying there, with an odd feeling that you've never felt by yourself before like the whole galaxy slowly revolved around the room. You weren't sure how much time passed by before you whispered to him,

“This feels good.”

“...yeah.”

Your thoughts finally seemed to work in tandem with each other, slowly but peacefully. Unlike their cousin, Blooky make you relax to the point where you could admit, “He's not so bad... he's trying more than I thought he would... to really help me.”

You turned to your side, the galaxy disappearing as you winked at him. “Mettaton's still not as cute as you are though!”

“O-ohhhhh........” they faded away nearly as quickly as the galaxy did, except that their face managed to appear more solid than usual even when the rest of their body went. “..... t-thank you....????”

They finally disappeared just as you began to question whether or not you managed to make the shy little ghost blush. Probably not, but they seemed pretty embarrassed as they went. You rolled onto your back again and closed your eyes, too lazy to get up. 

~

Mettaton walked in about half an hour after Blooky left, just to see you lying on the floor, snoozing away. “Oh for the love of- did you really just lie on the floor like trash the whole time?”

Undisturbed by the outburst, your breathing remained deep and even, and your body completely relaxed. It seemed like you weren't waking up any soon. He sighed and brushed a hand through his hair and considered. “Well, perhaps it's been awhile since I've done the same...”

He cleared the bean bag chair out from the corner to make room for himself and laid down next to you, staring up at the ceiling. It wasn't long before he got bored though, and began fidgeting. Bumping into your bookshelf, he was surprised when a photo shook loose from a book. The girl in the photo with you wasn't overly familiar though you shared some features, but that was hardly the most unusual thing about the picture. Though she appeared to be a teenager, she was surrounded by bright toys that was meant for a toddler, reaching for them out from under your one-armed hug. She was curled forward, but in a way that should be painful. Some sort of tubing could be seen underneath her shirt. Despite this, she smiled.

You on the other hand, looked as if you couldn't quite make eye contact with the camera lens. You seemed perturbed underneath your smile, and uncomfortable as you held up a hand in a peace sign. In short, it was obvious you didn't want to be there. It begged the question, who was the girl next to you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess which story's alive? This one! It turns out, it's harder for me to regularly update 2 stories than I think it is. So my apologies for that! Incidentally, secretlovers, I haven't forgotten your request. I'll get to it as soon as possible!

**Author's Note:**

> I managed to catch a bad stomach bug on Valentine's day, so go figure. In any case, this will be another multi chapter series, but it'll probably take a little while for it to really advance- I want to update Cooking Chemistry regularly, and post one shots still, so this one might be like once every 2 weeks.


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